


We're Dancing On Tables

by allwaswell16



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, American Harry Styles, American Louis, Drinking, Explicit Sexual Content, Flirting, Harry's serial killer smile, House Party, Humor, Jealousy, Limes, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Revenge, Smut, University Student Harry Styles, University Student Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 04:56:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12951756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allwaswell16/pseuds/allwaswell16
Summary: Last week, Louis went on the very best date of his life with the hot guy from his chemistry lab, which was great until the guy never texted him or called him afterwards. Everything is great. Everything is fucking great. Now this guy has the nerve to show up at Louis’ house party, which of course forces Louis to plot to ruin his night.





	We're Dancing On Tables

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for a [Project Miss You](https://louislisteningparty.tumblr.com/post/168259633264/louislisteningparty-miss-you-listening-party) reward!

 

“What the hell is he doing here?” Louis hisses as he eyes the boy who has just walked through the door. 

“Who?” Niall swivels around to look.

“Don’t look!” Louis says. “Christ, you’re so obvious, Niall.”

“Well, I want to see who it is!” Niall insists.

“It’s Harry, okay? The guy I went on a date with last week. He’s over there talking to Liam.”

“Ohhhh, Hot Lips Harry? From your chem lab?”

“Yes.”

“Well, why don’t you want to see him?” Niall asks, confused. “Thought you really liked him.”

“Yeah,” Louis sighs, pursing his lips into a pout. “I thought we had a really good time. We spent almost the whole day together. We went ice skating and that led to dinner, which led to a movie, which led to--you know.”

“Fucking?”

“Jesus, Niall!” Louis swears. “No, not fucking! Get your mind out of the gutter. We just kissed a bit when he dropped me off at home.”

Niall tries to turn less obviously towards Harry, but then stares openly. “Well, I wouldn’t blame you if you did more than kiss. He’s pretty hot. I mean, if I was gay, I’d do him.”

“Oh, shut up,” Louis says, but he takes the chance to check Harry out. The dark waves of his hair just brush the top of Harry’s broad shoulders which currently have a leopard print jacket atop them. The black shirt beneath the jacket looks sheer, and Louis gulps at the expanse of skin he can see with the damn thing nearly half unbuttoned. 

“So what’s the problem? Go talk to him.” Niall nudges his shoulder. “He clearly came to the party to see you, if you’re dating.”

“We’re not dating though.” Louis sniffs. “He never called or texted after our date.”

“Well, did  _ you _ call or text him?” Niall asks reasonably. God, Louis hates when Niall is so  _ reasonable.  _

“No, I did not. He said he had my number from our chem group’s phone chain email, and he would text me. And then he did not. End of story.”

“Couldn’t you have got his number off the same thing?” Fuck Niall for being so logical.

“No, I could not,” he says. “I must have deleted the email.”

“Well, don’t you know anyone else in the class who would have it? Could have got it from them.”

Louis’ lips press into a line. “Why would I do that when he said  _ he _ would text? Just nevermind.”

He leaves Niall’s side and heads into their kitchen to pour a beer from the keg. He takes a few long sips as he leans against the doorframe of the kitchen looking into the main living space that’s currently crowded with people. Fuck if he doesn’t have Harry radar though. His eyes instantly find him in the crowd. 

Harry still stands across the room talking to Liam, and it just irks Louis to no end that he has the balls to show up here at  _ his _ house and talk to  _ his _ friends. Before he can even think through what he’s about to do, he finds himself making his way towards them as fast as he can. 

“Yeah, it was a little disappointing when they didn’t play it live--” He hears Harry say.

“Oh, I know!” Liam answers. “I was really hoping they’d play--”

Louis inserts himself directly between them, his back to Harry. “Hi, Liam! I need your help.”

“What? Oh, uh--okay, Lou. What do you need?”

Louis starts leading him away by the arm before he even bothers answering. He peeks back over his shoulder at Harry who is watching them walk away. He’s obviously ogling Louis’ ass. He shouldn’t even be allowed to look. Louis lets out a loud huff at his impertinence. Louis ushers Liam all the way through back into the kitchen.

“So what did you need me to help with in here?” Liam asks.

“Uhhh--” Louis glances around at the counters littered with plastic cups and bottles of beer and a few half-eaten bowls of chips. “Limes!” 

He flings open the refrigerator and is shocked to find they do in fact have a large bag of limes. Steve must have gone to the grocery store. 

“Limes?” Liam asks.

“Yes, Lima, limes. We need to cut these up. Tequila shots, you know?”

“Ohhh. Okay.” Liam happily begins cutting up limes into wedges as Louis peeks his head back out of the kitchen and finds Harry watching him. He jumps back so quickly he hits his elbow on the counter. 

“Fucking hell!” He shouts. 

“What’s wrong?” Liam asks as he continues to chop the limes.

“Hit my elbow.” Louis mutters, rubbing it with his hand. He glances back through the doorway again and sees Harry making his way across the room. He’s not even sure why, but panic is his first response. 

He plasters himself against Liam’s side and looks up at him with a big smile. He even bats his eyes for good measure. 

“Ummm--” Liam says, a bit of color pinkening his cheeks. “What are you doing?”

Good to know he’s still got it. 

“Just play along,” he says under his breath. He clears his throat and talks loudly. “Seems like you really know your way around a kitchen, Liam. I like that in a man.”

“Oh! You know who’s a really great cook? Harry! Oh man, he made these chicken fajitas the other day for everyone in our boxing class at the gym, and they were so delicious--oh, hi, Harry! I was just talking about your fajitas!”

Harry doesn’t look at Liam though. He eyes Louis curiously, a hint of humor in the green depths of his eyes.

Time for Plan B. Make a run for it. “Where’s Niall? NIAAALLLLL? Gotta go find Niall.”

He scurries out of the room and runs smack into Niall. “Were you shouting my name? Or am I drunk and just imagined it?”

“Just drunk.”

“Oh, okay,” Niall says with a shrug. “Does this music sound like shit to you, too? I’m gonna go change up the playlist.”

Louis watches Niall wander off towards Steve who is currently holding court with his laptop playing his own mixes. Fat chance he’s going to give up control of the music to Niall this early in the night. He decides to go follow to listen to the ensuing argument anyway but gets stopped along the way to do shots with some of the guys he plays indoor soccer with. 

“To Tommo’s three fucking goals!” Logan shouts, his shot held high. Louis pretends to be modest about toasting to the goals he scored in their last game. 

“Please, please, I’m the striker. That’s my job.” 

“To Tommo!” They all shout. They aren’t the most subtle guys in the room, so most everyone has looked their way, including an intense stare from across the room. Harry leans up against the wall near where Steve is DJing the party and doesn’t take his eyes off Louis. He occasionally takes a sip of whatever it is he’s drinking, but his eyes never stray from Louis’ face. It’s unnerving. Something a serial killer would do. 

“Who’s a serial killer?” Logan asks.

“What? No one. Was thinking about something I watched on Netflix. I like the sort of dark shows on there.”

He plasters a smile on his face and tries to look like he’s having a grand time talking to the goalie for his team even though he’s been avoiding Logan for months. He’s fairly certain Logan would take any chance to get in his pants. 

“I like the dark stuff, too. I could protect you. Just like I protect the ball for you.” Logan waggles his eyebrows as he leans his hulking frame into Louis’ personal space. Ew. “Maybe we could watch Netflix together sometime--and you know--chill.”

Louis struggles to keep the smile on his face. He’s pretty sure it’s probably a grimace at this point, but maybe no one can tell from across the room. Under any other circumstances he would roll his eyes, and it’s almost physically painful to keep them steady in his head.

He looks hopefully around the room for someone else to go talk to--anyone really. He spots the lead singer of a band he’s seen play on campus. Good enough. 

“Uhhh--I better go say hi to my friend--” Louis draws a blank for a moment, but somehow his brain manages to come up with what he thinks is the correct name. “Matt--y. Matty. Yeah. Looks like he just got here.” 

He sidesteps Logan and calls out, “Matty! What’s up?”

Matty turns his slender body to face him. He tosses his dark curls and holds up an open bottle of wine in greeting. An unlit cigarette hangs from his lips. Louis inwardly thanks the universe that Matty seems used to random people calling out his name. 

“Hello, pretty boy!” Matty says as he approaches. Huh, he already likes this guy. Matty holds his arm out high, gesturing for Louis to snuggle in beneath his arm, and Matty wraps an arm around his shoulders. “So do I know you, pretty boy? I feel like I’d remember a pretty face like this. George, do we know him?”

A tall man standing opposite them just shrugs. 

“Nah, I just like your band. I’ve seen you play a few times at The Sound.” Louis explains.

“Ohhh! Nice.” Matty takes a swig from the bottle of wine and knocks them a bit sideways to do it. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. It was great. You guys were really good.” He tries to sneak a peek at where Harry is, but he’s quite trapped beneath Matty’s arm. Hopefully, Harry can see how very occupied he is talking to his new cool friends who have a sick band. 

All of a sudden the room fills with the sound of Fleetwood Mac’s ‘The Chain’. Quite the change from Steve’s remixes he’d been playing all night.

“What the fuck?” Matty says as he shuffles them sideways to see where Steve had previously been manning the laptop. 

Harry’s grin lights up his face, and he waves,  _ actually waves, _ to Louis from his spot at the laptop, Steve nowhere in sight.

“Well, now there’s another pretty boy. Do you know that one--”

“Louis.”

“Do you know that pretty boy, Louis? He’s aiming his dimples at you like weapons.” 

They both stare at Harry, grinning madly as the colored lights of Niall’s disco ball shine like spotlights for his dimples. They really are weapons. He tries to regain control of himself and tears his eyes away from Harry to try and resume some kind of conversation with Matty and George. 

The next song starts. It’s Shania Twain’s ‘Man! I Feel Like a Woman.’ 

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Louis shakes his head and untangles himself from Matty. “Uh, I better go check on the music.”

Matty hoists his wine bottle in the air at him in farewell and shakes his hips to the beat.

Louis dodges his way quickly between people to get to the laptop and Harry’s horrific song choices for a house party. By the time he gets there, Harry stands off to the side of the laptop comparing his nail polish with Lauren, one of the girls from the house next door. He slides in front of the laptop and clicks on one of Steve’s playlists. The music abruptly changes to a Michael Jackson remix, and Louis breathes a sigh of relief. 

He glances over to Harry who has his lips drawn up into a pout, the most adorable pout. A pout Louis dearly wishes to kiss off his face. His lips really are the perfect shade of pink. Harry looks like he might be about to say something, but Steve suddenly reappears at the table they have set up with the laptop and speakers. 

“Thanks, Lou! Guess I shouldn’t trust random party guests to take over when I have to take a piss.”

“Yeah, guess not.” Louis’ eyes lock with Harry’s and it feels like the wind’s been knocked out of him. Fuck, he’s not nearly drunk enough to handle this. He practically runs to the kitchen. 

“What the fuck.” Liam is still there chopping limes. There’s an enormous bowl full of lime wedges. “Uhhh--I think that’s enough Liam.”

“Oh, okay!” Liam smiles happily. 

“Well, let’s break out the tequila, Lima.”

He and Liam line up a few shots, plenty of limes, and salt. They throw one back, and Louis lets the burn in his throat take over. No more thoughts of Harry, he says to himself as he and Liam take another shot. 

“Holy shit, that burns.” Liam cackles.

“Yeah.” Louis agrees. “So another one?”

“Of course!”

They line up a third shot and toast to each other. Unfortunately, the moment the liquid enters his mouth, Harry enters the kitchen. Louis spits the shot out in a spray all over Harry’s shirt. They both stand there in shock staring at each other. 

“Oops.”

“Hi, Lou.”

“SORRY LIAM CAN YOU GET HARRY A NEW SHIRT TO WEAR OK THANKS.”

He runs from the room back into the fray and feels instantly guilty. Shit, shit, shit. He honestly didn’t mean to spit all over Harry. He hides out in a corner with Niall as he rambles on about golf, which under any other circumstances would send Louis running in the other direction. The two and one-fourth shots that he did manage to drink have only managed to make him slightly tipsy. He drinks the rest of Niall’s beer, but it doesn’t do much for him. 

He doesn’t see Harry anywhere, and he wonders if maybe he’s gone home after being spat on with tequila. But then, he sees Liam walking down the stairs next to him. Harry’s got a new shirt on. Harry’s got one of Louis’ shirts on. Harry’s got Louis’ favorite thin white t-shirt on. It looks better than any shirt has a right to look on any one person at any one time. Louis’ mouth goes dry at the sight of all of Harry’s tattoos on vivid display. Why is life so unfair? 

Harry heads into the kitchen and comes out with a new drink, which is probably what he’d been trying to do until Louis spit all over him. Louis’ insides twist all up into a tangle of emotions that he doesn’t know how to handle. Bressie appears in front of him and has joined Niall in some absurd conversation about some golfer he’s never heard of. He steals Bressie’s beer and drinks the rest of it in one long gulp. He wipes the back of his mouth and lets it settle for a moment before handing the empty bottle back to Bressie. 

“Sorry. Gotta go ruin someone’s night.” 

He finds his way over to where Harry is telling some ridiculously long story in his morbid voice about why he’s got a mermaid tattooed on his arm.  Louis rolls his eyes and as stealthily as possible when one has had an undetermined number of shots and beers creeps up behind him and steals the drink he’s set down to show off his tattoos. He just takes it and then takes off like a shot, bolting through the small bits of spaces between people. When he makes it to the other side of the room in triumph, he spots one of his roommates from freshman year. 

“Luke, what’s up, man?” They give each other the bro side hug, glad to see each other.

“Hey, Tommo! Sick party, bro. Whatcha drinking?”

Louis looks down at the cup with brown liquid in it. “Dunno.” He takes a sip of Harry’s drink. He’s pretty sure it’s Diet Coke. “Ugh. I think this is Diet Coke.”

Luke laughs and then a look of concern crosses his face. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to laugh. Are you not drinking then? That’s cool.”

“Fuck yes, I’m drinking. Although thanks for being understanding if I wasn’t.” He looks across the room at Harry who is of course watching him again. Apparently, Harry isn’t drinking tonight. Or at least he wasn’t at the moment Louis stole his drink. 

“Who’s that you’ve got your eye on?”

“What?” Louis whirls around. “No one. I wasn’t putting my eyes on anyone.”

Luke grins widely. “Sure, Lou. Here. Take my drink. I’ll go get another one.”

Louis gratefully accepts the whatever it is Luke has in his red Solo cup. It tastes like lime and gin. He’s done drinking it by the time Luke returns with another. 

Luke hands him another cup. “Here. I think you might need this. You know, because of the hot guy you aren’t eying across the room.”

“Thanks,” Louis says with a dramatic sigh. 

“So you gonna go talk to him or what?”

“No. He never called me. We had the best date in the history of dates, and then he never called me.”

“Aw, Tommo.” Luke pats him on shoulder. “That doesn’t sound right. You should go talk to him. Maybe he has a good reason. He clearly can’t take his eyes off you either.” 

Louis sniffs. “I have my dignity, Luke.” 

He looks back and sees one of his midfielders approach Harry. Fucking Miles. Fucking good looking Miles. Probably flirting with Harry. Probably Harry’s gonna call  _ Miles _ after their date. He stares into his empty plastic cup. He feels like it’s some kind of sad metaphor for his love life. He doesn’t remember finishing his drink. 

Luke looks at him with sympathy. “Need another?”

“Maybe. But don’t leave me here.” He begs. He’s always been a bit needy when he’s been drinking. “Oh, I’ll go wait with Zayn.”

He fumbles his way over to Zayn as Luke goes to get him another drink. 

“Zaynie, my one true love.” He cries out as he flops onto the couch next to Zayn. If he was less drunk, he’d make fun of Zayn for showing up to a party and sitting here playing games on his phone while other people stay a short distance away and just stare at him. Zayn looks up at him, a small smile of affectionate amusement on his absurdly handsome face. 

“Having a hard night, Lou?” Zayn asks. He holds out an arm, so Louis can snuggle up against his side. 

Louis nods against Zayn and closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, letting himself relax against his best friend. He rests his head on Zayn’s shoulder and feels a tiny bit better. He breathes in Zayn’s comforting scent and finally feels a small sense of peace but also starts to feel very sorry for himself. What’s the point in trying to ruin Harry’s night? There isn’t one. Harry’s allowed to go out with a boy and just not like him that much and then not call. It’s not Harry’s fault that he just doesn’t feel it for Louis. It’s not  _ entirely _ Harry’s fault that Louis fell so hard and so fast for him within the space of one date. 

Zayn leans his head in to rest against the top of Louis.’ “Lou, if you’re done with the party, you can go on up to bed. I’ll go get you some water and be right up to tuck you in.”

Louis considers it for a moment and then opens his eyes to answer, but he opens his eyes to a surprising sight. Harry stands in front of them, a frown stamped across his handsome face. He’s staring at Zayn’s hand on Louis’ shoulder. He does  _ not _ look happy. 

“Hi, Louis.”

“Hi, Harry.”

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Harry asks stiffly.

Louis sits up, dislodging Zayn’s arm a bit. Zayn takes his arm back and looks coldly at Harry. “He’s been drinking.”

It’s not just a statement of fact; it’s a warning.

“I know.” Harry says, a bit more softly. “I wouldn’t--”

Louis washed his filter away with that last gin and tonic. He lets bitterness color his voice. “Of course, he wouldn’t, Zayn. He didn’t even want me enough to text me after our date.”

He can feel Zayn stiffen up next to him.

“Please, let me explain, Louis.”

“He doesn’t need to sit here and listen to anything you have to say.” Zayn bites out.

“Please, I just--” Harry thrusts his phone into his Louis’ hands. 

“What’s that about?” Zayn asks.

Louis looks at the phone screen. “It’s our chem lab phone tree email. I accidentally deleted mine.”

“Of course you did.” Zayn lets out a small huff of laughter. 

“Um, could you check your number on here? I--tried to call the number, but--”

Louis looks through the haze of alcohol he’s consumed tonight at the phone number next to his name. “That’s not my phone number.”

Harry tugs a hand through his hair, more nervous than he’s looked all night. “Um, yeah. I figured I’d just try and talk to you in class, but you didn’t come this week. And so I thought maybe I’d get a chance to talk to you here--tonight.”

“Oh.”

Zayn sighs and looks up at Harry. “Okay, well just remember how much he’s had to drink tonight. He needs some Advil and water before he goes to bed.”

Harry nods. “Okay, yeah. I can do that. I mean, if he still wants to talk to me. Louis? Um--would you like to talk in private? Or uh--I can come back tomorrow--or like if you want to give me your real phone number I could just--er--call you--”

Louis jumps up off the couch and sways a bit. Harry steadies him. “Don’t be an idiot. Of course, I want to talk to you. That was the best date I’ve ever been on in my life.”

Harry’s eyes light up. “Me too. I hope you still think that when you’re not drunk.”

“Yeah, I hope so, too.”

They make a pit stop in the kitchen for water, and Louis takes Harry’s hand in his as he leads him up the staircase to his bedroom. He opens the door and sees the clothes he has strewn all over the floor and immediately closes it again. “We can’t go in there.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a mess. I didn’t think I’d be bringing anyone up here tonight.”

Harry smiles. “To be honest, I’m glad.”

“You’re glad my bedroom is a disaster?”

“Yeah, it means you weren’t planning on pulling tonight.” Harry puts a finger to his chin. “Maybe you were still thinking about that curly haired guy you went on the very best date of your life with.”

Louis pretends to think about it. “Nah, thought he was a jerk who didn’t call me afterwards.”

“Heyyyy--”

“I’m joking! Just joking!” He opens the door to his bedroom again and ushers Harry inside. He starts trying to pick up all the clothes, but Harry stops him.

“Louis. Just sit down, okay?” Harry hands him a bottle of water. “Drink this, and I’ll pick up the clothes.”

Louis sits dutifully on his bed and drinks long gulps of water as he watches as Harry quickly rounds up Louis’ clothes off the floor and dumps them into the laundry basket sitting by his closet. 

“So where’s the Advil?”

“Medicine cabinet in the bathroom down the hall.”

“Okay. Gonna go get that. You stay here and keep drinking water.”

Louis takes another few gulps as he waits for Harry to return. Harry returns with two Advils and hands them over wordlessly. Louis takes them with another few gulps of water. He still feels a little fuzzy around the edges, but it’s not enough to release the awkward tension in the room.

It takes a minute, but he finally notices that Harry is pacing the small room, running his hand through his hair over and over. It’s a bit mesmerizing, so he just watches for a while until Harry notices him staring. 

Harry lets out a loud bark of a laugh that startles them both. “Sorry! Sorry. It’s just--you look utterly beautiful, sitting on your bed, completely wasted. It’s not fair really. No one should look this good when they’re as drunk as you.”

“No one should look as good as you look in my white t-shirt.”

Harry looks down at his shirt, surprised. “Right. Forgot I had it on actually. I should find my other shirt and jacket.” 

Harry looks around the room as though it’s going to suddenly appear even though he just picked up all the clothes in the room. “Any idea where Liam might have put them?”

Louis shrugs. 

“Right. Okay, well--now that I’ve drug you away from your own party, it’s probably pointless because you aren’t going to remember any of this in the morning. So maybe I should just come back tomorrow and talk to you then.”

Louis doesn’t want to wait and talk then. “I don’t want to wait to talk to you until tomorrow. I’ve been waiting a lot this week already.”

Harry stares at him. “How are you doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“That!” Harry waves his hands in the direction of Louis’ face. “I’m trying to leave so you can either go rejoin the party or go to sleep, but I can’t seem to tear myself away. You look--adorably rumpled right now.”

“Harry?”

“Yes?”

“Would you please just--stay?”

“Stay?” Harry repeats dumbly.

“I don’t think I can fall asleep unless I know you’ll be here to talk to when I wake up.”

Harry groans and sits down on the bed next to him. “You play dirty, Tomlinson.”

Louis waggles his eyebrows. “You have no idea, Styles.”

Harry lets out another loud bark of laughter. “Okay, I’ll stay, but I’m not going to touch you. I promise.”

Louis flops back on his bed with a sigh. He turns his face to Harry. “But what if I want you to?”

Harry groans again. “You’re drunk now, so I can’t. Just remember to say all these things when you’re sober, okay?”

Louis starts peeling his skinny jeans down his legs.

“What are you doing?” Harry asks in alarm.

“Well, I’m not going to sleep in my jeans, am I? Get comfortable, Harry. We’re going to bed.”

Harry remains still on the edge of the bed, staring at Louis’ bare legs. Then Louis sits up and whips his shirt up and over his head. Harry makes a startled, gurgling noise. It’s quite a satisfying noise to hear when you’ve just stripped off most of your clothes. Louis dives beneath the blankets and says, “Your turn!”

He watches eagerly as Harry wiggles out of his black jeans until all he has on are Louis’ white t-shirt and some very tight black boxer briefs. Louis likes what he sees. Harry slides beneath the blankets and props his head up on a pillow. He reaches over and turns off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into almost total darkness.

They can still hear the slightly muffled noises of the party going on below them, and Louis can tell Harry is still looking at him from the faint gleam of his eyes in the darkness.

It’s the last thing he remembers before drifting off to sleep.

When he awakes, it’s to the feeling of a hard dick pressed against his ass, two rock solid arms wrapped around him tightly, and a long, lean leg thrown over his own. It’s not the worst way to wake up. The room remains fairly dark, Louis’ blackout curtains doing their job properly. Harry seems to still be fast asleep, and Louis has no clue what time it could be. He’s surprised to not feel the headache that usually accompanies a night of drinking for him. He does, however, really need to piss.

He pries Harry’s arms off him first and then slowly slides his leg out from beneath Harry’s. As stealthily as possible, he crawls off the bed and tiptoes out of the room. He takes a piss and then brushes his teeth. He looks at himself in the mirror and is surprised to see that he doesn’t look as terrible as he usually does after a night of drinking. His hair sticks up at all angles, but otherwise not too bad. 

He creeps back into the room and carefully shuts the door and locks it before climbing back into bed with Harry. He tries his best to recreate the position he woke up in, but he wiggles his ass a little too much against Harry’s dick, and he hears a low moan against his neck. He’s not sure Harry is fully awake, but Harry’s arms tighten around him and an involuntary thrust of his hips against Louis’ ass has Louis moaning, too. 

Suddenly, the delicious feeling of Harry pressed against him vanishes, and he hears a string of curses behind him.

“Fuck--shit--I’m sorry--god--I didn’t--”

Louis turns over to face Harry, who looks stricken with guilt. “I’m so sorry, Louis. I was asleep! I didn’t mean to--”

“You might have been asleep, but I wasn’t. And I was quite enjoying myself actually.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

A sheepish smile creeps across Harry’s sleepy face, a crease from the pillow across his cheek. “I think I may have been enjoying myself, too.”

“Well, your dick was certainly enjoying itself.”

Harry lets out a loud bark of a laugh, a sound that Louis vaguely recalls from last night. Louis takes this opportunity to climb on top of Harry, straddling him. Harry’s laughter dies a quick death. Harry’s hands find the muscles of Louis’ thighs, his long fingers pressing into them. Louis watches Harry’s eyes as they widen and green disappears into black. 

“So if I’m remembering correctly, you wanted to talk to me this morning,” Louis says calmly as he grinds down a bit onto Harry’ still impressively hard cock. Harry lets out a very gratifying gasp.

“I--yes I--wanted to--” Louis grinds down a bit more, and Harry’s head falls back against the pillow. “--ahhh ahhh--talk---”

“What was it you wanted to say to me then?”

“Wanted to tell you--” Louis presses down again. “--fuck--uhhh--really like you--”

“Mmm, yeah I can feel how much you like me, Harry.”

“You’re so beautiful and--” Louis slides down against Harry’s cock until their still clothed cocks are aligned. “--holy shit--uhhh--so beautiful and funny--” Louis slides further down and nestles himself between Harry’s legs, nosing at the hardness beneath his fingertips. “--and I wanted to see you again--so bad--” Harry lets out a gasp as Louis hooks his fingers in his boxers and tugs them down just enough to release him. “I tried to text you the next--day--but--” Louis clasps his fingers around Harry, and Harry lets out a shout. “God--you--you don’t have to--” 

“I want to.” Louis says as he moves his grip up and down Harry’s length slowly as he speaks. “I’m sorry I thought stupid things about you. I’m sorry I tried to ruin your night. And I’m really sorry that I wrote the wrong fucking number down for chem lab.”

Louis breathes against Harry’s thigh, his hip, his cock. Harry lets out a mewl of a sound that makes Louis smile against his cock just before he swipes his tongue along it. Harry bucks up at the sensation.

“Fuck! Louis--you don’t have to do this--” Louis sucks lightly on the head and Harry clenches his eyes shut. “--because you’re sorry.”

“I’m not.” Louis growls and then rolls his tongue around Harry’s head. He loves the way Harry’s muscles clench and flex as Louis takes him further into his mouth. Louis lets his fingers explore beneath Harry’s cock, one thumb brushing against his hole to the sound of his whimpers. He really loves the way Harry sounds like this. And he’s definitely not doing this just because he’s sorry.

“Louis?”

Louis answers only in a hum around Harry’s cock. Harry shivers a bit. 

“Want you to kiss me.”

Louis stills. Maybe he got a little ahead of himself here. He slides his mouth off of Harry, who whines in protest.

Louis moves up Harry’s body, straddling him again. He leans down until his lips brush against Harry’s. “Thought you wanted me to kiss you.”

“I do,” Harry says as brushes his lips against Louis’ in return. “But that blow job was pretty spectacular. Probably should have just waited for the kiss.”

Louis laughs against his lips just as Harry captures them with his own. Harry’s lips are soft, but insistent against him. They open their mouths to one another, tongues slipping between their lips. Harry’s kisses leave his body feeling heavy, the heady taste of Harry on his tongue. 

Harry’s fingers have traveled the length of his spine and now rest against his ass, pressing into the firmness of him. Harry tugs his boxers down below his ass, so that now their cocks press against each other and slide between their stomachs. Louis deepens the kiss again, tugging his fingers through Harry’s hair, and Harry moans again against his lips. Louis doesn’t even realize he’s thrusting against Harry until Harry thrusts back. 

Harry’s fingers leave his ass and instead, he uses them to grasp them both in one large hand. Louis is the one to let out a cry this time as he feels the spark of heat build in his spine. Harry’s strokes them steadily, relentlessly. Harry finds a rhythm, and they ride out their pleasure together until they’re both spilling into Harry’s hand. 

Harry calls out Louis’ name as he comes, and his body shudders beneath him. Louis collapses half on top of Harry, his nose pressed into Harry’s neck. He smells delicious, clean and a bit sweet somehow. 

Louis closes his eyes as Harry threads his fingers through Louis’ hair, rubbing the strands between his thumb and finger. “Lou?”

“Yes,” Louis replies, a bit groggy.

“Would you like to go on another date with me?”

Louis smiles into the softness of Harry’s skin. “I dunno. I’ll have to think about it.”

Harry’s arms tighten around him. “Heyyyy--”

“Joking! Just joking. Of course, I want to go on another date with you. Just to warn you though, I don’t hook up with anyone on the second date.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave kudos or comments if you liked it! And if you could spread the word about Project Miss You by [reblogging this fic post](https://louislisteningparty.tumblr.com/post/168362294584/project-miss-you-reward-1-1-million-of-views%E2%80%9D%20rel=) that would be awesome!


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